


When Words Mean Nothing

by catholicorprotestant



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Biochemist Iwaizumi Hajime, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Writer Oikawa Tooru
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catholicorprotestant/pseuds/catholicorprotestant
Summary: Jaded biochemist, Iwaizumi Hajime finds himself at cafe inside a bookstore every day after a store clerk catches his eye. Aspiring author, Oikawa Tooru can't find inspiration, and is drowning in self doubt and the burden of failure. When their worlds collide, it seems things get more complicated. Secrets come out, lives are changed. But could they be what the other is missing?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, probably shouldn't be starting another fic, but dammit here I am. Please enjoy!

Art was real. Art was everything, everywhere. The problem was that not everyone could see it for what it was. Far too often was art defined only by physical works: sculptures, paintings, drawings. Nobody talked about literature. People didn’t like literature. How often did one hear another scoffing at the mere thought of reading? Yet these masterpieces were placed into buildings much like that of an art gallery. It was in those buildings that far away lands, a multitude of universes, and possibilities sat. Such buildings smelled of dust and time, or like new glue and fresh paper depending on the age. Art was real. 

Hajime had never been much of a reader, nor an artist. He was left brained, and loved math and science. He was a biochemist working for a medical company in the search to find cures. Well there was never a cure. It was treatments. Money talked, and there was no money in cures. Hajime wasn’t into books or art, but he came to the bookstore every day because the definition of art lived in there in the form of a tall, slender, yet fit, chocolate haired man. 

He had only gone into the store to grab a coffee, and a bagel on his way home from work. There was a small coffee shop inside that his friends raved about. So he went. And he had heard the airy, musical voice for the first time talking to a customer about a book recommendation. Hajime had only meant to grab the coffee and go, but something made him stay. The man’s eyes had sparkled as the talked to the customer, a young girl who was probably in high school, or just starting university. They came alive. 

So Hajime had made it a habit to come to the bookstore on his way home from work, and around lunch time on weekends, trying to work up the courage to talk to him. But what would he talk to him about? He hadn’t ever been one to read for fun. He studied his heart out to get to where he was, and the thought of picking up another book gave him a headache, but there was something about this man. It was wrong. It was creepy. It was weird. It bordered on stalking. He told himself these things, but it didn’t stop him. 

He took a sip of his coffee, staring over the book he was pretending to read at the table of the coffee shop. Today the man was wearing glasses. He preferred him with the glasses. He looked smarter, more refined. Without them he reminded Hajime of those annoying pretty boys who got all the attention. His pants fit him in all the right places, and the sweater he was wearing with a button up underneath suited him well. He was a work of art. 

“What are you staring at?” 

Hajime practically choked on his coffee. Issei plopped in the chair next to him. He followed Hajime’s gaze. 

“Ah, yes, the bookstore clerk.” 

“Clerk?” Hajime blinked. “I thought he owned the place.” 

“Nah, Hiro knows him. They went to school together,” Issei said, reaching over and stealing what was left of Hajime’s lunch “You see that cute silver haired guy talking to him? That’s Sugawara Koushi. His parents own the place. Those two have been best friends since they were little.”

“Stop,” Hajime muttered, but not moving to actually stop his friend. “And why haven’t you told me?” 

“Why? Because you didn’t tell us you were lusting after him. Name’s Oikawa Tooru. Apparently he’s a nerd, and really annoying.” 

Hajime hummed. He couldn’t see how someone so attractive could ever be described as annoying. There was an elegance about him, sophistication. Maybe it was just the fact that he worked in a bookstore, wore glasses, and was just overall appealing. When he wasn’t helping customers, he always sat at the desk with a new book in his hand, lips parted, and occasionally moving. It was adorable. 

“They’re friends,” Issei laughed. “You should have seen your face. You looked so constipated. I can ask for him to introduce you though, but god help you if you have ever been caught staring.” 

Issei stood up, and patted Hajime on the shoulder. “Let’s go. I’ll ask him a question for you. Goddamn you scientists are awkward as fuck, huh?”

Hajime didn’t bother to retort. It was true. Besides, he couldn’t breathe let alone move. Issei was going to ask him a question. He was going to make Hajime’s presence known. How would he ever come back? Then it would really look like he was stalking him, and not just someone who really liked bagels and coffee. And what if the man, Oikawa?, what if he didn’t like him? What if…

He was too lost in his thoughts to keep Issei from forcing him to come along with him. He was scared. 

“Oh, hm,” Oikawa hummed, coming from around the counter to answer whatever Issei had asked. 

Shit! Why hadn’t he been paying attention? 

Oikawa led them to a book display at the front of the store. “These are the staff recommendations. My personal favorite is this one.” Oikawa picked up a book, and handed it to Issei. “It’s a science fiction novel. That’s my favorite genre. But this one is about this futuristic world that has to save the planet. I know it sounds cliche, but I promise it’s good.” 

“Aren’t all science fiction like that?” 

“Excuse me?” Oikawa crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes at Hajime. 

Fuuuuck. He hadn’t meant to say that outloud. 

“I-I-I just mean that it’s always some time in the future and there’s always aliens trying to destroy the world. It’s a bit repetative is all.”

Oikawa studied him for a moment before shrugging. “I mean, if you only read the mainstream ones I guess. But if you’re really into the genre, then you’d know better. What kind of books to you read?” 

“I, well, I don’t really.” 

“Oh.” Oikawa nodded. “But you come to the bookstore every day. There are cafes everywhere.” 

Hajime swallowed hard. Shit. Shit. Shit. He glanced around, but Issei was nowhere to be found. He made a mental note to kick his ass later. He didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to respond? He’d blown his chances with this guy before he even knew him. He wanted to just melt into a puddle in the floor had die, but his feet wouldn’t move. 

“It’s good coffee.” 

“It is.” 

“So you’re watching me?” Hajime crossed his arms, and lifted an eyebrow. 

“I mean…” Tooru trailed off, rubbing the back of his head. “I see you a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” 

“Well,” Oikawa started. “I was hoping for a chance to talk to you actually.” 

Hajime’s heart leapt. Oikawa Tooru wanted to talk to him. 

“I think you need to do something about this hair.” Oikawa motioned towards it. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s a mess. You seem like a salaryman, so my advice to you is fix it. Hold on.” 

Hajime narrowed his eyes. His hair? What was wrong with…? Oikawa came back and handed him a card. 

“In case you want me to try that coffee with you.” The man smirked at him a moment before sauntering away leaving Hajime shocked.

*****

“I can’t believe I told him his hair was ugly,” Tooru groaned, with his head buried in his arms. Suga laughed, rubbing his back. 

“It’s not the best hair.” 

“He probably hates me.” Tooru whined. 

“He was kind of stalking you.” 

“Can I blame him?” Tooru sighed, and sat up. “A lot of people do.” 

It had been a month or so since he noticed that man staring at him, a little less when he noticed he was there every day. At first it was weird, but he was cute. He had that chiseled jaw, and his arms! Tooru wanted those arms around him. He wondered what else the man had to offer. And he was with Makki’s boyfriend, so that meant that he must know him. Maybe he could clear the air? But then he’d look so stupid trying to back peddle. What was he supposed to do? But it had been so, so, so long since he’d slept with someone, and an eternity since he’d had a boyfriend. Toys could only do so much. God, why did he have to be so unbelievably awkward? 

“He’s cute.” Suga hummed. 

“Right? Suga, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Breathe.” 

Tooru nodded, and hugged his knees to his chest. Everything in his life was starting to fall apart. None of his books were getting published. Nobody was wanting to read it. He was told that he should just stick to publishing online free. One agent told him that his work was bullshit. The bookstore was barely paying the bills, and now he was working overtime which gave him less time to write. He should have listened when his professors had told him to have a back up, but he hadn’t listened. All he wanted was to be a published author, to travel around the world doing book tours. It wasn’t happening. He was twenty-seven years old and a failure with nowhere to go. 

He hated where his life was heading. He missed his parents, mostly his mom. He wished that she was still here, wished he could hear her voice. His brother and sister were no help. His sister refused to talk to him because she blamed him for the car wreck. His brother did too, though he’d never said it. But goddamn everything had changed after their parents died. And they hadn’t even tried to make sure he was okay. They just abandoned him at fifteen. Thank goodness for the Sugawara’s. Now more than ever he was feeling it. 

“I’m gonna go,” Tooru muttered, standing up, and grabbing his coat. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Tooru forced a smile. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

He hugged Suga, and walked to the metro station. The train jostled him while he sat in silence. His hand was itching to take out his phone so he could read the latest book on kindle. But he didn’t want to be seen like some stupid millennial who couldn’t be without their phone. He hated that thought process, but he had to look different because anyone on this train could be a publisher. It hurt. Who was he kidding? He was never going to get published. Everything was pointless. He sighed, and pulled it out letting the story suck him out of reality just once.


	2. Chapter 2

The apartment wasn’t much. A small studio with a working bathroom and kitchen, albeit, run down and barely working. There was an awful draft, and there was no heating or air conditioning which made it difficult in the summer and winter. Tooru always laid his futon near the oven when it was cold. The toilet always ran. The counters were chipped, and the floor was cracked. There was a small table he sat at to eat or to write. He kept his clothes in a box. It wasn’t much, but it was all Tooru could afford. He’d accept a place like this in a shitty part of town over having to live with Suga’s parents and feel like a complete failure. He hadn’t even been able to bring books with him, but on his wage he was able to pay the small fee for kindle unlimited so he had the world at his fingertips. 

Tooru stared at the ceiling. There was a small spider web in the corner. He had named the spider Clara. He’d read the name in a book once, and saw it to be fitting to his new friend. It was a symbiotic relationship. Clara kept out the bugs that found refuge in his home. It wasn’t that he kept and unclean house. In fact Tooru obsessively cleaned. But his apartment was old, and bugs could get in. He wondered what it was like to be a bug. Was it nice? Sure there was danger at every corner, but they didn’t have to work and fail. There was nothing worse than failing. Once he’d watched a little ant try to carry a crumb three times its body. The little guy never gave up. It inspired Tooru. But it was so, so hard when all he got back was rejections and merciless critiques, none of which were helpful. 

He jumped when his phone buzzed. He picked it up, thinking it would be Suga wanting to get breakfast. Tooru _hated_ getting breakfast with him because Suga always insisted on paying. He knew Tooru wasn’t in a good way. But it was a slap in Tooru’s face. It was hard. His parents had had a decent amount of money from the restaurant they owned, but when all was said and done, his brother saw to that he and his sister, Nami, were more worthy of splitting the wealth than Tooru. His brother sold it without a second thought. Tooru was fifteen. He was the reason his parents had died. All because he refused to walk home in the storm. 

_Hey. How’s writing going? Still nothing? Do you have another plan yet? Let me know if you need money._

Tooru glared at his phone, hot tears in his eyes. That’s all his brother ever said to him. They used to be so close, but he blamed him. He and Nami looked down on Tooru anyway for not having a “real job.” Nami told him he should just get over it and be a teacher. Keishi said he should just work harder. Apparently he wasn’t working hard enough. That’s all he ever said. They were both doing so well in their lives, but he wanted to throw it in their faces they wouldn’t be doing well if their parents hadn’t died. If they hadn’t sold the restaurant, Tooru would have worked so hard there. He loved working there. He loved talking to his mom on Sunday mornings while they prepared for the lunch rush. He didn’t have anything to do, just be with her. 

His heart clenched with the thought of his mother. They’d fought that day. She told him that he should have just taken an umbrella. It was his fault. She had told him to. “It’s just a little rain, Tooru.” But it scared him. He didn’t want to get wet, and the lightning and thunder made him feel unsafe. Finally she had agreed to pick him up. But they never showed up. He sat at school for hours wondering where they were. It was Suga’s parents that finally picked him up. They broke the news. He missed her more and more every day. 

He wiped the tears away, texted his brother back declining money like he always did. He didn’t need their money. He didn’t need a fucking babysitter. He was an adult. He was working his ass off. Nami told him he was only able to work because Suga’s parents took pity on him. He really didn’t give a fuck about what either of them said. They left him alone with nobody. Suga’s parents had taken him in. Nami scoffed about it. Told him he was a spoiled brat and deserved nothing. Keishi hadn’t said a word, but Tooru knew. 

Tooru opened his laptop and opened one of the novels he was working on. He kept editing, and editing. Nothing worked. Nothing made the editors happy. Maybe that guy from the bookstore was right. Maybe science fiction was cliche. That was why there was a dime a dozen. He was just a penny trying to shine as bright. He couldn’t. He tapped his fingers on the keys hoping that something would come to him. Nothing ever did. He chewed his lip, and glanced at the clock. He had to be at work soon. His stomach twisted. He was never going to get this done with the hours he was working. Suga offered him to stay with him and his fiance, but he refused. Life was a double edged sword. 

He fell back against the futon, and closed his eyes. Maybe none of this was worth it.

*****

Hajime played with the card in his hand. That Oikawa guy had said to call him if he wanted to get coffee sometime, but he also insulted him. It was confusing. Did he really want to talk to this person? He was gorgeous, and the way his eyes came alive over books was so endearing. But he knew nothing about other than what Issei had mentioned. He said that Hiro told him he was annoying, but Hiro was still his friend? Hiro wasn’t one to be friends with people he didn’t like. So Hiro liked him well enough. And Issei knew him, or was acquainted with him at the very least. He’d called him by his first name though. God, he knew nothing. 

He tossed the card aside. He wished it wasn’t a weekend so he’d have work. But work was awful. It sucked. He saw how they could get to another step, but it was always the same. They weren’t searching for a cure. Only treatments. What kind of bullshit was that? When he’d gone into the company, he had felt like he was doing something important, and maybe in a way he was. It just didn’t feel like it. 

Issei told him to just switch jobs. It was easy for him to say. He loved his job as a chef. He could go anywhere, and he’d get hired. Besides, Hajime was comfortable at his job. He knew what to do. He could work almost on autopilot. He was safe. But it wasn’t doing it for him. Could he really do this for the rest of his life? What happened to him? He’d been so bright eyed before all of this. Was this what really happened with age?

He brushed off the thoughts, and walked into the kitchen to prepare himself breakfast. He always went all out. He wanted to at least take advantage of his salary. Other people weren’t as lucky. He set the egg carton down on the counter when he thought of the cafe. Maybe instead of making breakfast he could just go to the cafe instead. Maybe try to talk to that Oikawa guy. Kill two birds with one stone. He wanted to see him at the very least. He hadn’t seen someone so attractive in his life. Maybe he could stand to be insulted every now and again if he could just have _that_. That sounded like a much better idea. 

Hajime put the food back in the refrigerator, and walked to his bedroom to get dressed. Finally a day he didn’t have to wear nice clothes, yet here he was trying to impress a man who thought nothing of him except that his hair was a mess. He stared at himself in the mirror trying to figure out a way to fix it. He put his hands under the water, running them through his hair in an attempt to make it cooperate to no avail. He sighed, his shoulders visibly falling. His hair had never been manageable, always sticking in every which direction. He didn’t see the problem until now. But why did he care so much? He didn’t even know him. 

But in a way he did. He had watched him every day for the past two or so months. He knew that he was a bubbly person, but could also be calm like when he read. He didn’t only read science fiction, and always had a new book in his hand meaning that he read quickly, and was pulled into them. Oikawa was a dreamer. He had a sweet laugh, and talked to his that Sugawara guy all the time. He interacted with people in the kindest of ways, always smiling and laughing with them. He was punctual, always closing the store down exactly at nine at night. But he also seemed unhappy, like there wasn’t true emotions behind that ever present smile or his musical laugh. And when he’d seen him up close, he noticed the smile didn’t meet his eyes. His eyes were sad. 

*****

“Are you doing okay?” Suga asked, his brows knitted. 

“I’m fine. I promise,” Tooru said trying his hardest to convince his friend that the first of the month was going well. 

“I can ask my parents to give you a raise. You work the hardest. You’re here every day, and always go the extra mile to take care of the books. You even fix them. Nobody else can do that.” 

“You have to take care of books, Suga.” He glanced up to meet the man’s eyes. “They’re full of people and universes and stories. They’re all I care about.” He straightened up. “Besides it wouldn’t feel right if I got a raise just because you asked them to give me one. They know how much I do. They gave me a managerial position a year ago. That was the most wonderful moment. And look. I’m getting by.” 

Suga studied him for a moment. “You shouldn’t just be getting by Tooru.” 

“Yeah, well it is what it is.”

“You’ve been living off of nothing but packaged ramen, eggs, and toast. Your refrigerator is sad, Tooru. A least let me buy you some proper groceries.”

“I’m fine,” Tooru forced a smile. “Really.” 

“You know if your brother and sister weren’t so horrible…” 

“They’re not horrible,” Tooru muttered, stacking books on the display. “They’re just...coping.” 

“You were a kid, Tooru.” 

“Yeah, and that’s not going to bring them back, is it?” Tooru snapped. He rubbed his face. “And they have every right to blame me, Koushi.” 

“Nami maybe. She’s was nineteen. But Keishi? Keishi was damn near thirty. He had a kid, and knew that he would do anything for Takeru. It wasn’t safe for you to walk home in that. It was dangerous. And he abandoned you. They both did. He was always the one who was supposed to look after you if something happened. Now he doesn’t even talk to you.” 

Tooru stared at the books, running his finger along the edges, trying to keep the tears back. It was nearing their death day. He missed his nephew. He missed his siblings. He missed playing with them. He missed talking to Keishi every day. He missed Nami always messing with him until he got flustered enough to tell. Suga’s mother had held onto Tooru while Suga’s father tried to get Keishi and Nami to stop yelling at Tooru. Tooru had buried his face in Suga’s mother’s shoulder, repeating that he wanted to leave, wanted to go home with them. 

_If that’s how you feel, then stay with the Sugawaras, you fucking brat._

“He asked me if I needed money,” Tooru said hollowly. “That’s all he ever asks. And how writing’s going. If I have a book deal. Something about it always makes me feel like he’s mocking me.”

“Just let him give you the money, Tooru. It’s yours anyway. He said he’d give you your part of the money when you turned eighteen. It’s been over ten years. You barely got a stipend in college. You had to work. And then he promised you when you were done. Keishi holds you hostage, Tooru. It’s fucked up. Just take the fucking money, and cut the ties.” 

“I don’t want it,” Tooru whispered. “I don’t want money that had their death on it.”

Suga was quiet. Tooru breathed a sigh of relief. They had the same conversation every month. Tooru didn’t want handouts. He had spent three years with the Sugawaras. Four years in university. All with handouts. He was tired of it. He had gotten a degree in literature. He’d won awards for his work. Nobody wanted to publish him though. It was like some kind of karma for what he did. If he had just…

“Excuse me?” 

Tooru jumped and looked up to find that guy from yesterday standing there in nice jeans and a button up shirt. His hair was still as unruly as ever. He repeated over and over to himself not to make any stupid comments. He bit his cheeks for a second to remind himself before speaking. 

“Hi, can I help you find something?”

“Uh, actually I was coming to find you strangely enough.” 

Tooru exchanged a look with Suga. His friend patted his arm, and wandered away. 

“I know this is probably really strange, but I was thinking about what you said about giving you a call, but I guess I’m kind of old school. I wanted to talk to you, and ask if we can get coffee.” 

Tooru blinked. It was so forward, so…

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime.” 

“Oikawa Tooru. And, I suppose I could get a coffee. The store isn’t really busy. Let me just tell my coworker.” 

Tooru walked towards Suga who was waiting at the counter. “He wants to take me to coffee. Should I go?” 

“He’s cute,” Suga shrugged.

Tooru sucked his tongue playfully. “And what would Daichi have to say about you talking about other men being cute.” 

“He’d ask to see the man,” Suga smirked back, smugly. “Now go. I’ll watch the store.”

*****

Hajime’s heart was racing. He hadn’t expected to wake up this morning, and jump out at a limb. Life was boring. It was monotonous. Even coming to the cafe to watch Oikawa was a routine. He needed something. Needed some action in all sense of the word. His heart hadn’t raced like this in years. He was sure that his body was going to overdose on adrenaline. He bit his lip to keep from grinning. He kicked himself. It was just coffee. Why was this so exciting? It wasn’t even a date. 

Hajime ordered his usual, before turning to Tooru. “Order whatever you want. I’m buying.” He smiled. 

Tooru froze. Something washed over his eyes. “No, I’ll pay.”

“Come on, don’t be silly.” 

“No, really, I’ll pay for myself. Thank you so much for offering.” 

“Hey, I asked you. It’s only natural I pay.” 

“No. I want to buy my own. I _can_ buy my own coffee.” 

Hajime cocked his head to the side. Why was it such a big deal? He’d feel like an asshole if he didn’t pay. He didn’t care. It wasn’t like he had to watch what he spent money on. Clearly that wasn’t the case. 

“Look, I’m a biochemist. You work at a bookstore. I am not at all tight on money.” 

Tooru swallowed hard, and walked away. 

“So just the one coffee then?” 

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment :D


	3. Chapter 3

Hajime spent the next week and a half away from the bookstore. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done. He hadn’t meant to insult Oikawa. I mean the man had straight up insulted him first conversation on purpose. Wasn’t it a bit hypocritical? Maybe he shouldn’t have phrased it that way. Then all hope of changing up his life was gone. These days Hajime was always tired, but could never sleep. He’d go to the gym, or go for a run every day. Work every day. He had a routine. Oikawa seemed like someone with a free spirit. Now he’d gone and cut the spirit away. 

“I cannot believe you told him that…” Hiro shook his head, tossing the pit of an avocado into the trash. “You might as well just give it up. Oikawa’s got this crazy amount of pride. You wounded it.” 

“Thank you for that valuable advice, Takahiro. It was so helpful.” Hajime picked at his food. 

“Who even says that though?” Hiro puffed himself up and mocked Hajime’s voice. “I’m a biochemist. You’re just a bookstore clerk. Sorry. I make way more money. Like damn, just let him buy the drink.” 

“I asked him.” 

“He told you he wanted to buy it several times. He’s like that. I don’t know why. He’s always insisting that he pay for himself. It’s kind of annoying. Then again, that’s not all that’s annoying about him.”

“Thought he was a friend of yours?” Hajime muttered.

“Oh he is, but he is very annoying. But in a cute way.” Hiro shrugged. “You should have told me it was him you were scoping out. I could have given you some pointers. Like for one don’t insist on paying, or insinuate that he can’t afford it. The only person who I’ve seen do that and live is his best friend. Second that pride of his doesn’t just cover money. If you piss him off, good luck. He refuses to apologize, ever. Third he’s very touchy. Like sensitive as hell on certain things. Don’t ask him how his writing is going. Ask him what he’s writing. It’s all semantics with that guy. It’s annoying. But I’ve mastered the art of the Tooru.” 

Hajime rolled his eyes. His life may be boring, but his friends were anything but. And they called him out on his shit. Still it was a little too little, and a lot too late. Oikawa was so beautiful. He was being superficial. He knew that. But god...just once he wanted to date a guy like that. He was never considered by others particularly attractive, though not unattractive. His friends assured him lovingly that if he lost his arms, he’d have nothing. He wasn’t a superficial person most of the time. He had a type. Just like everything else in his life, predictable. He thought that Oikawa would be different, would somehow break the spell. But Hajime had only put the rose in a glass jar. 

Maybe he should apologize. Even if the man laughed in his face, he’d at least be able to know he tried. Pride. Hajime hated people who were too proud. Sounded like this guy could fit the mold. But in any case trying to chip away at it enough to get to his heart. Now that sounded like something worth his time, something that could wake him up. 

“Wait, you said he writes?” 

“He’s a writer. A good one too. He won awards in school.”

“Is he published?” 

“I...I don’t think so?” Hiro hummed. “Definitely don’t ask him about that.” 

Hajime nodded, standing up, and grabbing his jacket. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To apologize.” 

*****

Tooru hadn’t seen Iwaizumi in a while. Not since the coffee date. Touru knew he freaked out. He overreacted. He always did when it came to that stuff. Suga told him his pride was going to be the death of him. Maybe it was. But goddammit it was all he had left. A man had to have something, right? And it was his pride that kept him going, kept him writing, kept him from taking the money that their parents had left to him. Suga said his pride got in the way of everything. He was eating Top Ramen because of it. But he _was_ putting egg in it, so that was positive. It was a step. 

He dusted the books gently, taking care to make sure each one was properly cared for. It annoyed him that some of the employees didn’t even take the time to dust the shelves. Then their customers were going to think the books were bad because they hadn’t been bought yet. That wasn’t true. And it kept them from having a good home. It was Tooru’s life mission to read every book there because then he’d be able to recommend them. Tooru read to write, and write because he read. Everything was so intertwined. 

When Tooru was little, his mom read to him every day before bed. He got his first library card at five, and became a bookworm just like his mom. He read so much that he strained his eyes. His mother said that was why had to have glasses when nobody in the family wore them other than his grandparents. It was a myth. He knew that now, but at the time he didn’t care. He would go blind if he could just read. The words were always placed on the paper in just the perfect sequence. It was like with each keystroke, the author was painting a picture in his mind. He wanted to be the one wielding the paintbrush, so he started writing. Started small. He would just write little blurbs on paper in shaky handwriting. Then they became composition books and notebooks filled with stories. He had volumes. He used the family computer for hours, fingers running over the keys like a pianist playing beautiful music. And when his mom gave him his first laptop, well, he never came out of his room. He published things online with mostly positive feedback. He’d often sit and refresh the page with each new update waiting for comments to come in. Likes were great, but comments filled his heart with joy. 

After his parents died, writing kept him going. He would push through the pain by projecting onto characters. He coped by trying to make his characters go through it and navigate it. Suga would sit next to him while his heart flowed through his fingers. It was how he won awards. He had something to write. He had an outlet for his art. And then slowly as the years went by, writing got harder and harder the more darkness he felt, the loneliness, the voice in his head saying what’s the point? Now he stared at his work or a new document with nothing in his heart. He needed inspiration before he died inside.

“Tooru!” 

Tooru jumped and glanced over at Suga who was skipping toward him. “Your boyfriend is here.” 

“Boyfriend?” 

“The cute guy from the coffee shop.” 

Tooru rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“Why? Because he wanted to buy you something? Aren’t you the one whining every Valentines Day that you haven’t dated anyone all year? Cut him some slack. It’s that damn pride of yours that’s going to keep you single forever.” 

Tooru rolled his eyes again, sighing, and handed the duster to Suga who looked at it like it was a foreign object. Probably one of the employees who didn’t care. But then again, was he really an employee if his parents owned the place? Suga did get a degree in business to take over. For now he just helped out, or maybe he was just spending time with Tooru who now had no free time as he spent every waking hour at work. 

Iwaizumi was pretending to look at the book display while he awkwardly waited for Tooru. He wasn’t dressed up all nice today. Instead he was in a pair of sweats and a hoodie. It looked so nice on him, though Tooru frowned that he couldn’t see his arms. He wanted to be in those arms, just not the jerk they were attached to. 

“What?” Tooru tried his best to sound firm, and annoyed. He crossed his arms, and glared at the man. 

“Hey...uh…” Iwaizumi glanced toward the coffee shop, then back at Tooru. “I just...well…”

“Well?” Tooru blinked. He was getting really annoyed. His thoughts were being broken and his work being disrupted because of this man. 

“I came to apologize. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just...I’m old fashioned. I think if I ask you out on a date, I should pay.” 

“Who said it was a date?” Tooru asked cooly.

“I asked you to coffee, and you told me to call you if I wanted to get a cup of coffee with you. Of course it was a date.” 

Tooru sighed, and shook his head. “Little advice, _Iwa-chan_ , never insult your date.” 

“Uh, last time I checked you insulted me first.”

“We weren’t on a date.” Tooru smiled. 

“Well...can I make it up to you?” 

Tooru’s stomach churned. This man was so fucking hot. And it had been so long since Tooru had been wined and dined, and fucked. God it had been so long. But this asshole had insulted him. But sex. But he was insulted. No, no, he was going to keep him around. Prove Suga right that his pride as not what was keeping him single. No, what was keeping him single was that only shitty guys wanted him for his body, work, and writing. Not his fucking pride. 

“I guess.” Tooru shrugged. Iwaizumi must not have expected him to cave so fast because his mouth hung open slightly. “But on one condition.” 

Tooru slinked toward him. “I do not do it on first dates. I am busy as hell, so you’ll have to work around my schedule. And four, you can’t make me fall in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a bit! I hope this long chapter makes up for it. <3

Tooru chewed his lip as he tried to find something nice enough to wear. He hadn’t gone shopping for clothes in forever, and wore the same few shirts, pants, and sweaters in different combinations for a week until he hand washed his laundry. It worked. It was his life. He stared at himself in the mirror. A pair of dark washed skinnies with a light blue button up. 

“What do you think about this?” he asked Suga. 

“You’ll look good in anything,” Suga smiled gently. “Or we could go shopping for clothes. Please let me spoil you.” 

Tooru sighed, with a sad smile. “I can take care of myself, Suga.” 

“Clearly…” Suga muttered, glancing around the apartment. “Are you sure you don’t want to just room together until Daichi and I get married? We haven’t even set a date yet. I hate you living in this crappy place.” 

“I’m sure.” Tooru frowned. He turned to face him. “Is this what I want, Suga? No. But it’s what I have. It’s mine. I can afford it. I can pay my bills. I can buy my groceries, and clothes. And I can buy my own coffee and dinner.” 

“Look,” Suga rolled his eyes. “Nobody is saying you can’t. I know you’re a big boy. I know. And you’re a kickass writer. Everyone who’s denying you has shitty taste. But you deserve to be happy, Tooru. Stop punishing yourself for something that isn’t your fault.” 

“I’m not punishing myself,” Tooru protested. “I just...have my pride. That’s all I’ve got.”

“So you gonna fuck him, or nah?” Suga asked, standing up. “Because if you are, I think we need to decide what looks best on the floor.”

Tooru rolled his eyes. “I don’t do that on the first date.” 

“Uh huh. Sure. But that’s usually because you find something to get offended by in the first five minutes.” 

“I do not!”

“Do so. Personally, if it were me, I’d just skip dinner. Not as messy that way, you know?” He winked. “Alas I have my highschool sweetheart. Let me live vicariously through you.”

Tooru made a face, and turned back to the mirror. “Everyone knows you and Daichi probably have crazy sex because of you, not him.” 

“Uh, yeah. I’ve told you that Rihanna song was my jam for a reason.”

“Ew.”

“I’m kidding. But seriously, Tooru, I haven’t been single since I was seventeen, and I love Daichi like crazy, but holy shit, I need to live through you. Go get laid.” 

“You do that anytime you want, love,” Tooru glared. “Besides what if-”

“Did you see his arms? Did you see green eyes? Green! And that jawline. What else is he hiding? I want to know, so fuck him while you have the chance.” 

“What would Daichi say?” 

“He’d probably say the same thing if he saw the man. Come on. Please? Please? Please?”

Tooru rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. But I’ll need you thinking with your other head.” 

“I told him it was one of my conditions.” 

“Really now?” Suga raised an eyebrow. 

“I also told him not to make me fall in love with him.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“I’m busy.” 

“Okay,” Suga said slowly. “You’re too busy for love, but you’re always complaining about being single.” 

“I can complain about whatever I want. But I am too busy.”

_And too poor._

_And too much of a loser._

_And too much of a failure._

_And too much of a shitty person._

_Most of all he was too broken._

The truth was Tooru was scared that if he fell in love, that he would have to tell his story. He’d have to sit there, look the person in the eye and tell them that he was the reason his parents had died. Tooru was the reason his entire family blew apart. It was the reason that the restaurant he’d grown up helping his parents run wasn’t even a building anymore. It was turned into a freaking apartment complex. Nothing was normal. His childhood home had burned down after the next family had a kitchen fire. Everything was gone because of him. 

And if he could do that, then what could he do to another person’s life? Tooru was a catalyst to destruction. How Suga’s family and their bookstore were okay, he had no idea. Maybe something about them was just irrevocably good that even his dark cloud didn’t follow. 

*****

Everything about Oikawa was confusing. He walked around with an air of conceit, yet was too proud to let Hajime buy him a simple coffee. Hiro said that he was like that for some reason, but why? It was a date after all, but maybe he hadn't seen it that way. Still it made Hajime sweat at the thought of going through all the trouble to get dinner booked at one of the best restaurants in the city a bit nerve wracking. Oikawa had agreed for him to pick a place, but was he going to agree to Hajime paying the bill? Hajime wanted to pay. He asked him out. He was the one who made the reservation. Wasn't it only right that he paid? If Oikawa had asked, then he'd expect him to pay for the first date. Wasn't that the typical etiquette until they ended up a couple if that was even a possibility. Did Hajime want to deal with that much drama was also a good question. Did drama follow the man? 

Hajime barely knew him. All he did was watch the man at work. He was always so smiley and agreeable. He walked around the store as if there was not a care in the world. So why was he so uptight? Was that what Hiro meant about him being annoying because if that was the case, he could handle it. Really. 

He should just give it a chance. Hajime was all work, no play these days and it was starting to take a toll, and now that his routine of getting coffee to watch Tooru walk around the store was now sabotaged he needed something else to keep his life from being brain numbing. What could it hurt? Oikawa wasn’t the typical kind of guy Hajime usually went for. Usually they were professionals who also had a bit of a boring life which made for a rather monotonous relationship that tended to just end with a handshake and a wish for good luck on work. Work! When had his life turned into this? Oikawa could be the answer, couldn’t he? 

He pulled his suit jacket on, grabbed his keys, and his phone. Then he was off to the bookstore. Why the man wanted to meet at his place of work was beyond Hajime. There was no form of etiquette when it came to that man. Wasn’t it customary to just pick the person up at their home? But then again, Hajime had basically stalked Oikawa, so he couldn’t really blame him for wanting to keep his home private. But it wasn’t like Hajime had actually been stalking him. That wasn’t how it looked though. To Oikawa it was creepy. Oikawa was so interesting. Why would he go on a date with Hajime if he didn’t trust him? Hajime would never even talk to a person who he thought was stalking him past the command to leave him alone. Oikawa was a mystery. 

He turned the corner, and saw the soft glow of lights in the bookstore window. His heart skipped a beat. He needed this. He needed to feel like this. When was the last time he was anxious or excited? Hajime took a deep breath as his steps quickened toward the building. He opened the door, and found Oikawa almost curled up on the couch with a book in his hand. His lips were moving slightly as his eyes raced over the page. It made Hajime wonder what world the man was in. Whatever it was looked a lot better than the real one. 

Hajime cleared his throat. Oikawa jumped, letting out a soft squeak. He turned his attention to Hajime with a slight pout on his face. 

“I was in the middle of the goo-” His sentence cut off, and his eyes ran up and down Hajime. The color drained from his face, and in a small voice he asked, “Why are you dressed like that?” 

Hajime glanced down at his outfit. It was a nice suit. One of his better ones. He wore it to business meetings. He turned his gaze to Tooru who was wearing a pair of jeans, and a mint button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was wearing contacts. He looked nice, but a casual nice. Hajime’s stomach twisted when he realized he had booked such a fancy place and not told Oikawa. 

“You look...nice.” Hajime said quietly. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

“Well I booked a nice restaurant. I thought that I could spoil you for a bit.” 

Oikawa swallowed. “You didn’t tell me that. How nice?” 

“The kind that serves the tiny portion sizes that cost a fortune, but leave you starving.” 

“No,” Oikawa shook his head. “No, I can’t afford that. I’m not dressed for that. I don’t even own clothes that nice!” Tears started to show in his eyes. 

“It’s okay. I can afford it for both of us. And you’ll be fine. I hope this isn’t too forward, but you’re kind of like the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

Oikawa studied him for a moment. His eyes flashed with something that Hajime couldn’t quite place. He swallowed, setting the book down gently. Oikawa stood up, and crossed the room until he was mere inches from Hajime. His eyes were the color of milk chocolate. Hajime hadn’t noticed that before. Oikawa bit his lip before muttering something under his breath. He took a shuddering breath, and kissed Hajime. It wasn’t a lingering kiss, but one that made Hajime weak. 

“Can you cancel the reservation?” 

“Uh...I put a down payment.” 

Oikawa leaned in, a smirk on his face. “How about we do something that’s worth losing the down payment?” 

“It was a lot of money.” 

“You can afford it if you could put down a chunk of money, then pay for both of us. And do you even understand what I’m saying?” Oikawa narrowed his eyes at him, and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I...I don’t know.” 

Oikawa glanced around before leaning in again. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Hajime blinked, and stared at Oikawa with wide eyes. “I thought you said you don’t…”

“I changed my mind. Where do you live? Is it far?” 

“I don’t know if…”

“I’ll make you dinner afterward.” 

“Um...can’t we just get dinner first?” 

Tooru rolled his eyes, and gestured to his clothes. “I can’t go like this.”

“Who says you can’t?” 

“Those places have dress codes.” 

“No they don’t.” 

“They do.” 

“They don’t. I would know. I go to them for business.” 

“For business. You’re already dressed like that. Just shut up, and take me home.” 

*****

Tooru glanced around the apartment. It was huge. The kitchen alone was half the size of his apartment. The front of the apartment had huge windows from floor to ceiling that overlooked the city. Tooru had never seen a place so nice. He knew his brother lived in something like this, but he’d never been. Like Keishi would ever invite him anywhere. Tooru’s stomach knotted. Why would someone like Hajime ever like him? This man was smart, professional, successful, and, well, rich. 

Iwaizumi tossed the keys on the counter, and pulled his jacket off. “Sorry the place is a mess. I didn’t plan on anything like this.” 

Mess? Where? Everything was immaculate. No matter how much Tooru cleaned his apartment, it was going to be grimy and there was going to be questionable mold on the ceiling. This place…

“Do you want anything? I can get you a drink.” 

“No. I...I’m gonna go get freshened up. Do you have a bathroom?” 

_Do you have a bathroom._ What kind of stupid question was that? Of course he had a bathroom. Who didn’t? It wasn’t like he’d walked into a fucking cave. It was the nicest apartment Tooru had ever seen. _Do you have a bathroom._ Tooru could have just died. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s, um, down the hall to the right.” 

“Okay.” Tooru swallowed hard, and went on the quest to find the fucking bathroom. 

With luck he found it easily enough. He leaned against the door, and slid down to sit on the floor. What was he doing? He was in a stranger’s house to have sex with him. He never did that. It was his rule. And he’d only ever had sex a handful of times. He was too busy to have a boyfriend, but Suga introduced him to people and he didn’t want to be a prude. But he didn’t want people to think negatively about him either. Suga would be proud of him for following his advice. He’d be able to give him the sloppy details in the morning because if he didn’t stay the night here, he was sleeping in the back of the bookstore. He didn’t live in an area that was particularly the safest at night. He wasn’t looking to get robbed or killed. 

He buried his face in his arms, and felt the hot tears on his arms. Why? Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just have fun without feeling guilty? When had he ever had sex without going home feeling like a slut? Suga didn’t know that. Suga couldn’t know that. He couldn’t know how the pleasure melted into overwhelming guilt because his mother would be so disappointed in him. She wasn’t a fan of promiscuity. She believed in only one partner in a very committed relationship, particularly marriage. And here Tooru was galavanting around the city letting anyone fuck him as they pleased. This would be the fifth time he did this. The first since college. What would his mother say? How would she look at him? After everything he’d done to her. But it wasn’t like he could go to that restaurant. 

There was a knock on the door, causing him to jump. “Hey, you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Tooru managed to choke out. 

“Oh okay.” 

Tooru quickly got ready, and walked out of the bathroom. Iwaizumi had changed into to some sweats and a hoodie, and was sitting in the living room with a drink in hand, staring at the television. Some stupid game show was on. Tooru didn’t know what to do. Should he sit down? Should he stand? Iwaizumi glanced at him. 

“There you are.” 

“Look…” Tooru started. He dug his nails into his arm. “I’m sorry you wasted money on me. This is just me making it up to you. It means nothing.”

“You don’t have to make anything up to me.” 

“Oh but I do.” Tooru crossed the room. “Because I cannot afford that place, so I’m going to break my one rule for you. I don’t do this much, so be gentle...okay?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

“Yes, yes, we do.”

“You’re so tense though.” 

“Yeah, well, make me relaxed. Where’s the bedroom?” 

Iwaizumi downed his drink, and stood up. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” 

“I’m sure.” 

Tooru followed the man down the hall, his stomach twisting and turning. There was no going back. He was not leaving here until he was properly used. At least he was good enough for that, right? Maybe not some stupid fancy place, but he could suck a dick, and take one. Maybe he should be a prostitute. He’d make more money. But his mom’s voice would always be in his head, and he could just see the face she’d give him. But he wasn’t her little boy. He hadn’t been in years. Not since he killed his own parents. 

He glanced around the room. Clothes were everywhere. There was a large television, and bed. The closet door was broken, but inside were perfectly pressed suits. There was a wall with various ties. Tooru knew nothing, and everything about this man. What did he know about him? If Iwaizumi knew who he was…

Slowly Tooru fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. He was trembling so much his fingers weren’t able to get the buttons loose. He bit his cheeks, willing himself to calm the fuck down. It’d feel good. He knew it would. But he’d feel so gross afterward, and that, that was enough to make him shake. Warm hands touched his. Tooru glanced up, at Iwaizumi.

“You’re sure?” 

“I am. Just nervous.” 

“Then come sit down. Let’s talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk.” Tooru closed his eyes. He opened them, and stared at Iwaizumi again. “So do you want me to blow you, or do you just want to get to the main event?” 

“I want to make you comfortable.” 

“Stop.” 

“What?” 

“Stop acting so noble. Just be a man. Let go of every single morale you have and use me, okay?” 

“What if I don’t want to use you?” Iwaizumi slowly buttoned Tooru’s shirt back up. “If you would do me the honor, would you give me another chance? Let me take you out again. And again. Until I make it right.” 

Tooru stared at him. “Fine. Whatever.” 

“Let me talk with you. You’re so fascinating.” 

Tooru sighed. “Then will you fuck me?” 

“You’re still on that?” 

“Yeah. Or you can talk to me after. We both get what we want.” 

“I don’t think you want to do this.” 

“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong.” 

“You said you don’t do this often.” 

“Yeah, because I work all the time, and I’m so focused on writing that I can’t even hear myself think. So please, please just do this so I can get my mind off everything for a bit.” 

“But you’re shaking.” 

“I’m anxiously awaiting.” 

“I don’t want you to be anxious. What are you writing?” Iwaizumi brushed the hair out of Tooru’s face. 

“I...I...I’m not.” Tooru couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud. 

“You just said you were. What kind of writing do you do?” 

“Nothing.” Tooru shifted back and forth. “I don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t mean to say anything.” 

“I’m curious.” 

“I just want you to fuck me, okay?” Tooru stared at him, desperate. “Please.” He kissed Iwaizumi. “I want you.”

Tooru was ready to change the subject, and fast. He brushed Iwaizumi away, and dropped to his knees before Iwaizumi couldn’t try to talk him out of it. He knew the man wanted to have sex with him. Why else would he have agreed to take him home? And if Tooru could just control himself then, he would have already been fucked to high heaven. But no. He didn’t need to have his fingers steady for sweatpants. Tooru stared at him for a moment before getting to work. He knew he wasn’t experienced enough to be good at it, but the way he saw it, a man didn’t care how their dick got sucked as long as it was. He took the way the man was breathing and gasping as evidence enough that he was right. 

“Fuck…”

Tooru closed his eyes, focusing. If he could just get him past this, he’d have Iwaizumi balls deep in no time. Then Tooru could go home, stand in the shower until his skin was burned off, and he’d never have to think of it ever again. He didn’t care what Iwaizumi said. He was buying him an expensive as fuck meal to get into his pants. It was a flex. He was trying to act like he was just wanting a nice date, but that wasn’t the case. Iwaizumi’s fingers were in Tooru’s hair, and held him close. Tears watered in Tooru’s eyes as he gagged on him from being so deep in. He felt the hot liquid in the back of his throat. It was done. Tooru swallowed the rest, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Shit, that was...wow.” Iwaizumi muttered falling back on the bed. 

“Now it’s your turn. Fuck me.” 

This time Iwaizumi didn’t fight him on it. He stood up, pulled Tooru into a rough kiss before shoving him back on the bed. Tooru had finally convinced him. He’d woken the beast inside him. Tooru was glad that Iwaizumi wasn’t trembling because he was able to have Tooru shirtless in less than a minute. Tooru tried his best to focus on the positive. He pushed out everyone’s voices from his head except Suga’s encouragement and begging as Iwaizumi tugged his pants off, throwing them across the room. Tooru watched him dig around in the side table before a bottle of lube and a condom was pulled from it. How often did the man do this sort of thing? 

Tooru tensed as Iwaizumi slid a couple fingers into him. He closed his eyes, trying to relax as Iwaizumi went to work thrusting his fingers gently, but also enough to have Tooru panting. The stretching and the curl against his prostate was all he needed for Suga’s voice to get louder. _Do it! Do it!_ Tooru covered his face with his arm, closing his eyes tight as he reveled in the sensations. 

“Ready?” Iwaizumi asked. 

Tooru nodded, not moving his arm away. He felt his body tense as Iwaizumi lined up with him. He bit his lip, and then the man was gone. He moved his arm, wondering what had happened to find Iwaizumi staring at him with knit brows. 

“What?” Tooru whined. 

“You don’t want to do this.” 

“I do!” Tooru reached out for him, pulling him into a kiss. “Fuck me.” 

“No.” 

“Please.” 

“I don’t want to do something you’ll regret.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you want this.” 

Tooru rolled his eyes, and stared him straight in the eye. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You’re lying.” 

“A little late!” Tooru gestured to his growing erection. “Look what you did, and you want to stop?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Tooru covered his face, cursing. Why couldn’t he just fuck him? What kind of man got this far in, and didn’t listen? It didn’t matter how anxious Tooru was. He’d been far more anxious his first time, and that didn’t stop the guy from slamming into him every thrust even when Tooru asked him to be more gentle. But this guy? This guy wanted to talk and wanted to see his eyes. What a load of shit. 

“Listen, if you don’t fuck me, I will do it myself.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You’re not!” Tooru snapped. “Do it. I know you want to do it.”

“Only if you want to do it.”

“And I do! For fucksake! Just fuck me because at least I know I’m good for that.” Tooru glared at him, his chest heaving from the combination of being so turned on, and from being so angry. 

“You think that’s all you’re good for?” Iwaizumi stared at him. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“But you did, just not in so many words.” 

“What does it matter?” 

“It just does. To me at least. I can take care of that, but I’m not gonna fuck you. I’m just gonna return the favor because I know how much that sucks, okay?” 

Tooru felt the tears pricking in his eyes. He nodded, resigning to the fact that he wasn’t going to get what he both wanted and feared at the same time. He closed his eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of himself in Iwaizumi’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay a fast update! :D

Tooru’s fingers tapped the keys of his laptop. The dripping in the sink was starting to get annoying, but something about it was also comforting. He’d been thinking about what had happened the other night incessantly. He kept writing scenes in which it took place. How did he let that happen? He was mortified at the thought of him actually begging that asshole to fuck him. Why? Why had he done that? Just because he’d got the idea in his mind that he had to somehow one up the man? He’d slammed down a chunk of money that Tooru didn’t even want to know the amount. What did Tooru have? He could have walked away. He could have just left it. He could have just said the book was too good to put down. But no. No, his stupid pride got in the way. He was gonna be the best fuck that man had ever had, but it was ruined. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but he’d gotten that far, and not having it happen had killed him in more ways than one. Begging to be fucked? In what world? What had even happened? 

He hadn’t dared mention a word of it to his best friend. Instead he just shrugged him off, lying about going to some restaurant, and having a good time but never going to see Iwaizumi again. Maybe there was a part of him that really did want to sleep with him. It had been years. Every time Suga introduced him to someone, he snubbed them until Suga told him he knew he wouldn’t do it. So of course he had to prove him wrong. He always had to prove everyone wrong. Maybe this time he was proving himself wrong. All he knew is he never wanted to see Iwaizumi again. He’d die of embarrassment. 

Tossing his laptop to the side, he got up to put a rag under the water in the kitchen sink to dampen the sound. He made a mental note to let the landlord know it was dripping again. How many times had it been now? He couldn’t keep track of all the shitty things in the apartment that he had to call for. He wanted to live somewhere else, but he refused to have anyone help him and that was what he needed right now if he needed to get out of this mess. Nobody but Suga was allowed to know just where he lived, and even that had hurt. The only reason he knew was because he went home with Tooru home one night after they’d gotten plastered. That had been an awkward morning. Lots of tears. But Suga was technically his brother now, not his friend since his brother signed him over to Suga’s parents as legal guardians. He just skipped over that part of their parent’s will, and handed him off without a thought. 

He bit the inside of his cheeks at the memory. Tooru had watched him too. They had sat in that stuffy room in the courthouse while the lawyer went over the will. Keishi had interrupted at the part about him becoming Tooru’s legal guardian. _I don’t want that brat. Give him to the Sugawaras._ Their parents had become friends over the years of Suga and Tooru being friends, and they always treated Tooru like a son. Tooru and Suga had always talked about being brothers, but in the moment of watching his brother sign him away like he was nothing he wanted nothing less. He wanted his brother. He wanted Keishi. But he wouldn’t even look at him. And of course Suga’s parents fought for Keishi to give Tooru his share of the inheritance, but the will had clearly stated he’d get it at eighteen. Now at twenty-seven, he hadn’t seen a single yen.

Tooru sighed and drummed his fingers on the counter. What would his parents say if they were there to see what Keishi and Nami had done? What would they have said? Tooru was the baby of the family. That was true, and he was babied by his parents. But they were closer to him than they were to his brother and sister. They doted on him. Not to say they didn’t love his siblings, they did. Keishi had been an only child for eleven years before Nami was born, and Nami was the youngest for a few years. He and Nami butted heads a lot, but he and Keishi had been the best of friends. He remembered all the years he would follow him around, copying everything he did. He called him when things were bad. He called him when things were good. And he was the first person besides Keishi and his sister-in-law that held Takeru. He missed his nephew more than anything because he’d finally felt what he imagined Keishi felt. He wondered how he was doing. 

He pulled out his phone, and smiled at the background. It was a picture of the last time he’d seen him. Tooru never forgot it. His brother had texted him that Takeru had a game and wanted Tooru there, so he went. They’d gotten ice cream after. It was a picture of them together with their mouths open, full of ice cream. Keishi had picked him up, not saying a word to Tooru when he did. He opened a text to his brother. He typed out a message and erased it several times before he gave up. 

He decided it was best to look over his manuscripts before work. Maybe he could come up with edits, but part of him just felt like starting over. He just had to get this one story published. It was about a kid who was orphaned by his parents in a huge storm that was set off by a military experiment to control the weather malfunctioning. The military covered it up, or tried to. The kid gets wind of the rumors, and set off to avenge his parents’ deaths. He meets up with a few other kids along the way. Soon more and more of the military and government secrets were discovered by the group of kids. Aliens were real, and had been working with them. That’s how they had such advanced pieces of equipment. But they were being held hostage after they refused to do anything destructive. The kids helped break one of them out, and they helped the kids get to the bottom of everything. Together they were able to clean up the corruption. Tooru thought it was a pretty good idea, but the editors tore it apart every chance they got. 

His eyes scanned the pages. He couldn’t find the plot holes they were talking about as hard as he tried. He’d read the book over so many times, he had started to feel like it wasn’t his anymore. It should have worked to his advantage, but he hung on every word even though he knew what was going to happen. Suga had even read over it, and didn’t find a problem. What was missing? What was he not seeing? Or maybe it was just too cliche. Perhaps the idea was so overdone. This story was special to him though. He’d started it right after his parents died. It had gotten him through it all. That’s what he did to cope during storms. He spent all of his time on that book. For what? Sure he could self publish, but that wasn’t want he wanted. He refused to do so. He needed this book picked up and published. Maybe he could just translate it all to English and send it to American and British publishers. They had so many books. But it wouldn’t be the same as it would be if it were a Japanese country. He wanted to make it at home.

An alarm broke the silence, and pulled Tooru from his deep thoughts. Time for work. He groaned, and pulled himself up. Maybe he’d read something at work to give him better inspiration. 

*****

Oikawa Tooru was a mess. Plain and simple. That’s the conclusion Hajime had come to. The man was so confusing. One minute he’s getting offended over coffee, the next he’s willing to jump in bed to make up for a hefty down payment on a reservation. It just didn’t make sense. He’d never pegged him for someone who would do that. Hell, Hajime had been surprised he’d even agreed to a second chance. The man had such deep convictions, but at the same time was willing to throw himself under the bus if it saved face. Hajime barely knew the man, but he already had his head spinning. 

But he wanted more. 

For once in what seemed like forever, Hajime had something that wasn’t straightforward. He knew what he was going to get from work, from his friends, and family. Hell even knew exactly what workout he was going to do every day. He had a routine. He even meal prepped, so he was left eating the same thing for a week. His life was comfortable with little in there to make him feel anything but secure. 

The truth was for most of his life, things outside the ordinary caused him to be an anxious mess. His mother had been one of those helicopter parents. She freaked out over the smallest thing. His dad lost his shit when something didn’t go as planned. Their life needed to be neat and orderly for everyone to feel safe. He’d gotten so used to that, that even making new friends had been an uncomfortable experience. Every time he stepped foot into a new school, his stomach twisted, his heart raced, and his palms got all sticky with sweat. Makki and Mattsun had even given him anxiety in the beginning. 

He started taking medication for anxiety that had helped numb his emotions completely. It had been so nice to not feel sick over the slightest thing. Anything new or different or out of his schedule had him thinking about it nonstop. He felt sick when he tried to spice it up. Medication had been a lifesaver combined with planning every day to a t. But now what he craved most was to feel anxious again. He was tired of feeling comfortable. 

And boy was Oikawa Tooru anything but comfortable. 

So that’s why Hajime found himself walking to the bookstore again for the first time in a week. He’d been so embarrassed at first. He didn’t want to face Tooru. That night had been anything but positive. He didn’t want to seem too overbearing, but at the same time now he didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. He was never looking to get into his pants. He just simply wanted to get to know him. And he wasn’t really looking for a new friend, but if that’s what this turned into, then that was all that he needed. But dear god, did he need that man in his life. 

It was pleasant day. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining. The temperature was agreeable. Not too hot, not too cold. Just perfect. And there was a gentle breeze. It made Hajime want to go for a run. He added it to his list of things to do that day. That was another thing. He always had a list. He had a plan. He planned every day out until it was overplayed and too scripted to be anything other than monotonous. He knew what to expect. There was no room for error. But today, today he would change that no matter how much it killed him. 

He walked through the coffee shop doors, glancing through to the bookstore to see if Oikawa was in plain sight. When he didn’t see him, he went to the counter, ordered his usual, and waited patiently. It was great that Oikawa wasn’t around to see him. Hajime wanted to be smooth, and not be like a stalker. He just wanted to say hi, ask him out again, and just talk if he had the time. He wanted to know what his favorite book was so he could read it. He’d overheard Oikawa tell a few customers that you could always tell a lot about a person from what kind of books they liked. What sort of person was Oikawa? Too complex for a single book, that was for sure. He wondered what kind of writing Oikawa did. He probably wrote science fiction since that was his favorite genre. Maybe he’d check out the staff picks if he didn’t see him around immediately. Oikawa’s was bound to be in there. 

He grabbed his coffee, and made his way through into the bookstore. He didn’t see Oikawa, but his friend was there, the one he was always talking to. His parents owned the bookstore. He was texting someone with a sweet smile on his face. Hajime loved the man’s oversized sweater. Honestly if Hajime could live in baggy clothes, life would be infinitely better. Suits could be uncomfortable, and by the end of the day, his tie was always tugged halfway down, a detail his coworkers always picked on him for. Hajime tapped his finger on his coffee cup as his eyes scanned the store. Oikawa was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t like him. Wasn’t this his shift? 

“Can I help you?” the man said. 

“Uh, I was just looking for Oikawa.” 

The man’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Well he’s not here yet. I thought you didn’t want to see him again.” He leaned on the counter with a sweet smile. 

“He told you that?” 

“Is it not true?” 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” 

The man seemed to think about it for a minute before nodding. Hajime frowned at the thought of Oikawa thinking he never wanted to see him again. Was that all he was to him? Had he hurt him after all? Hajime had never wanted to do that. It wasn’t his intention at all. Still…

“I’m his best friend. You can call me Suga. Everyone does. What do you want with my Tooru?” He crossed his arms, and gave Hajime the once over, the sweet front now melted into something more fiery.

“Honestly?” Suga nodded. “I want to get to know him. I’m not looking for friendship. He’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Suga raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? You think he’s interesting.” 

“Well I mean, he’s attractive as well. And I just don’t really know about him. He left my place before I woke up so-”

“Wait. He was at your place?” 

“Well yeah. I’m sure he told you what happened.” 

“Um, he told me you two went to a shitty restaurant, and you told him you never wanted to see him again.” 

“Sorry, but that didn’t happen.” 

“Then what did?” Suga’s glare was like daggers stabbing into him. Hajime shivered unconsciously. 

“Well I booked a reservation, but he thought it was too fancy. Wanted me to cancel it, and wanted to go back to my place.” 

“You had sex with him?” His glare intensified. “And you kicked him out?” 

“No.” Hajime’s grip on his coffee cup almost popped the lid off. “Look, he was the one that asked me. He wanted to have sex with me, but he was so tense and was talking crazy, so I told him no.” 

“So you snubbed him.”

“No. He told me he wanted to when he clearly didn’t.” 

“And you know more than Tooru what he wants?” 

“Well yeah. I mean in this situation. If a person is tense as hell and is shaking, I think that’s a pretty big indicator. I mean it’s not like nothing happened, but we didn’t go all the way.” 

“And what do you mean by that?” 

Hajime shifted his weight from one foot to the next. He didn’t know if he should be talking about this. Clearly Oikawa hadn’t wanted this man to know. But why? And the way he was being grilled and questioned like he’d been part of some crime was unnerving. He felt like a goddamn criminal standing there. If Oikawa wanted him to know, he would have told him. Maybe this was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have come. It was too much work. So why did he want to fight for it?

“Maybe ask your friend.” 

Just then the bell on the door rang, and Oikawa waltzed in, a book in his hand, and his nose buried deep in it. How he had been able to walk like that was beyond Hajime. He’d never seen a person do that before. He wanted to melt where he stood. This was a bad, bad idea. He should leave. But he didn’t. He ignored the anxiety rising in him. He refused to move his feet no matter how much his brain was telling him to run, and run fast, far, far away. 

“Tooru!” Suga said in a sing-song voice.

“Hey, Suga,” Oikawa murmured not looking up from the book. 

“Your boyfriend here is saying that he never said he didn’t want to see you, and that you went over to his house. Care to explain?” Suga rested his chin in his hand, and batted his eyelashes. 

Oikawa froze. Blood drained from his face. He looked between Hajime and Suga. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“So you’re back to stalking me?” 

“No, I-” 

“Look, you made it very clear that you didn’t want to see me again, so why are you bothering my friend?” 

“Hey, I never told you that. I told you that I wanted to take you out again.” 

“And then you denied me.” Oikawa shrugged. “Me. I don’t just put out for anyone.”

“Tooru!” Suga screeched. “You lied to me!” 

“Did not,” Oikawa rolled his eyes. 

“You did.” Hajime wanted to die. Why had he said that? Well, he wanted to spice his life up, didn’t he?

Oikawa glared at him. His was much more deadly than Suga’s. It sent a chill up Hajime’s spine. He walked slowly toward him, slamming the book shut in the process. He set the book down, and eyed Hajime closely. 

“Who do you think you are?”

“Excuse me?” 

“You walk into my place of work. Talk to my brother, and then you spill everything. Do you think it’s okay to do that? Who put you in that position?” 

“Brother? I thought you said best friend?” He glanced at Suga who shrugged, and examined his nails.

“Semantics.”

Semantics? What was going on? 

“I didn’t just come here to talk to him. I came to see you. I wanted to see how you were doing, and see if I could take you out again because clearly I’ve fucked this up twice.” 

Oikawa stared at him. He glanced at Suga who seemed to be enjoying the show. His heart was racing, and he felt about ready to puke. Hot coffee was leaking from the cup in his death grip, but try as he might he couldn’t loosen the grip he had on it. 

“And who says I-”

“What’s your favorite book?” Hajime asked suddenly. “I want to buy it. Read it. I want to know why you like it. Where does it take your mind to? I promise if you just let me buy the book, I’ll leave.” 

“You...want to buy my favorite book?” 

Oikawa’s body language changed in an instant. His shoulders dropped, and body relaxed. The glare was gone from his eyes, and all signs of anger melted away. He blinked at him, before crossing his arms. He glanced at Suga who smiled with a shrug. 

“Nobody’s ever asked me that. Um...hold on.” Oikawa took his jacket off, and laid in on the counter. 

“You know the right things to say,” Suga said with a soft giggle. “Good man.” 

Oikawa came back after a moment with three large books in hand. He handed it over to Hajime. IQ84 was written on the cover over a large green Q. 

“This is my favorite series by my favorite author. I don’t have a favorite book in the series. Read all three, and I’ll go on another date with you.” 

And with that Oikawa walked to the back of the store. 

“Two-thousand yen please,” Suga smiled sweetly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much! Please leave a comment! <3


	6. Chapter 6

Hajime wasn’t much of a reader. He could never stay focused to save his life, but he’d made the mistake of asking Oikawa what his favorite book was. What had he been expecting? Not three books. He worked over fifty hours a week. Where would he even find the time? He wanted to date Oikawa. He wanted to know him. Reading those books was the key. But what if Oikawa started grilling him on it? What if he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and he walked out? There’s no way he’d be lucky enough to get another chance. How he had come this far was beyond him. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t be so kind. Oikawa was making him jump through hoops, but he had nobody to blame but himself. 

He made that shitty comment comparing their jobs and ruined everything. Then he ruined it by thinking about flexing his money again. What was it about him and not thinking before he spoke? Ordinarily Hajime was so careful in everything. His anxiety had him dying before anything came out of his mouth or before he did anything. But when it came to Oikawa he felt so different. He barely knew him. Why was it such a big deal? 

He leaned on the kitchen counter, sipping his whiskey thinking about how long it was going to take him to finish reading this 1Q84 series while his friends were flipping through the pages of book one. Each book was around four-hundred pages. He even skimmed over the pages, and got a headache thinking about it. He’d looked up the gist of it. It wasn’t something up his alley at all. “A love story, a mystery, a fantasy, a novel of self-discovery, a dystopia to rival George Orwell’s.” What kind of tagline was that? It sounded all over the place. He could see why someone like Oikawa would like it, but him? He couldn’t even begin to describe how utterly shitty it all sounded. 

Hiro whistled, and shook his head with a laugh. “Boy you really did it.” 

“Hey, Hajime, how much do you actually like this guy?” Issei asked, glancing up at him. 

“I don’t even know him.” 

“Trust me, he’s not worth it.” Issei tossed the book on the table. “I love you, Hiro, but damn if you made me read this shit before you’d date me, we’d both be single.” 

“Maybe you’d be single. I’d have a hot boyfriend, and we’d be traveling the world together.” 

“Sure,” Issei said rolling his eyes. “But seriously, is he worth it?” 

Hajime didn’t respond. Was he? Sure, he was beautiful. He piqued Hajime’s interest. He had this air about him that nobody Hajime had encountered had. He was special. But was he damn near a thousand pages special? But the look he’d given him when he asked for his favorite book, and the way he had told him that nobody had asked his favorite book before was burned into his memory forever. Something was different about him. 

Hajime shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean I guess? He makes me feel something. I need that in my life. I’m so sick of feeling safe and comfortable.” 

“It’d probably be easier to just stop taking your meds,” Issei muttered. 

“I want to be able to function,” Hajime retorted. “I just need some excitement.” 

“You know, I actually know him,” Hiro said in a rare moment of seriousness. “And in my opinion, he’s worth it. The guy is just looking for love. He’s really nice when you get to know him, but he puts up a wall. And yeah, he’s a mess. He’s all over the place. He’s anything but grounded. He’s a free spirit, and I think he’s worth your time, Hajime.” 

“But it’s so goddamn hard. Do you see what he wants me to read? How am I supposed to read that?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m a slow reader.” 

“Fuck, I don’t know. Get an audiobook. And if that’s too hard, then read someone’s amazing summary. Watch a video. If he’s not worth the time and effort.” Hiro sighed, and laid back against the couch. “He’s got really good taste in literature. He was a lit student. Everything he’s ever suggested has been amazing.” 

“Audiobooks sound good,” Issei agreed. 

“I spent two-thousand yen on that.” 

“It’s two-thousand yen. What does that matter?” Hiro asked him. “You make so much. It’s pocket change. I’m just saying, if you want him, then get him.” 

“Hey, Hiro?” 

“Hm?” 

“How well do you know him?” 

“Pretty well.” 

“Okay, so that guy at the bookstore, Suga, he said he’s Oikawa best friend, but Oikawa called him his brother. They said it was semantics.”

Hiro nodded, tapping his fingers against his leg. “Semantics.” 

“Which means?”

“It means that the guy has a really fucked up past. He was taken in by Suga’s family. He hasn’t talked to his since he was like fourteen? Fifteen? So they’re best friends, but at the same time brothers in a sense. You know? And I’m not going into details, so don’t ask.” Hiro stood up. “I’ll let you get to reading. I’m hungry.” 

Hajime watched his friends leave, giving them a slight wave. He threw back the last bit of whiskey in his glass, and walked over to the couch. He picked up book one, and opened it up. He’d give it a chance. If it proved to be too much, he’d find an audiobook and go from there. Hiro was right. He needed to prove how much he was willing to put into this relationship. 

*****

Tooru hated storms. Always had. As a kid, he’d climb in bed with his parents. Even as a teenager, he’d go wake his mom up, and she’d sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back while she told him stories to soothe him to sleep. She always made him milk tea, and gave him cookies to help him relax during the day. They’d cuddle up on the couch, and watch happy movies all day. It was his biggest fear, but after his parents passed, it progressed into what the doctor said was called astraphobia. He became obsessed with the weather, often checking ten times a day. If there were many clouds, he was tracking. During the summer when the rainy season hit, he checked hourly. He refused to leave his home without checking the weather.

He tapped his fingers on the counter restlessly while his eyes were glued to the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in. His heart was racing so hard that he was sure it would fly out of his chest at any moment. He couldn’t sit still. It was like he could feel the barometric pressure changing. It was closing in on him, crushing him as the storm got closer. He glanced at his phone, refreshing the weather report for the sixth time in that hour. 

He hadn’t wanted to leave the apartment, but he forced himself to go to work. He had to prove to himself he was more than his fears. That was what he’d been told over and over and over. Face it. He figured if his favorite weather channel was saying the storms weren’t going to hit until the evening, then he could go out. The channel was almost always right. The other ones were always wrong, always lying. He couldn’t handle that. 

He jumped at the sound of his phone screeching in his pocket. He whipped it out. His heart sank. A severe weather alert was issued an hour from now. The walls closed in around him. Everything in his vision went black as tunnel vision set in on the phone message. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He was frozen to the spot. Tears blurred what little he could see as his mouth went dry as though his body had averted the water to his eyes. His stomach twisted. Suddenly he was able to move. He ran for the store bathroom, locking the door behind him barely making it to the toilet before vomit spewed from his mouth. His body was trembling so hard he couldn’t barely keep himself clean. He flushed the toilet, and leaned against the wall, burying his head in his arms as he sobbed. 

Severe weather alert: Severe thunderstorms, high speed wind, gusts up to 64 kilometer an hour, possible hail storms.

“Tooru?” A soft tap on the door. “Tooru, I’m gonna come in, okay?” 

Tooru didn’t reply, just leaned over, and with shaking hands opened the door. Suga frowned at him, and sat down next to him. He pulled Tooru in for a tight hug. 

“I heard your phone from the office. What is it?” 

“Severe weather.” 

Suga frowned. “Okay, well, how about I get you to my parents’ house? I still have to watch the store, but my mom is home.” 

“Where’s your dad?” 

“He’s away on business.”

“Where?” Tooru asked, pulling his phone out, and opening the browser. 

“Stop,” Suga said gently, taking his phone. “He’s okay. You know everything is going to be okay. We’re fine.” 

“Severe thunderstorms. High speed winds. Gusts up to 64 kilometer an hour. Possible hail storms.” Tooru muttered. “How is that going to be okay? It’s dangerous!” 

“We’ll be okay. I’m gonna take you somewhere safe, okay?” 

Tooru stared at his feet, picking at the skin on his arm. Little drops of blood started to prick their head. Suga took his hands. 

“Let’s go.” 

Everything in Tooru’s body was telling him to stay put, to hide in the bathroom until it was all over. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? Bathrooms were safest because all the plumbing in the walls acted as a barrier. No outside walls. No windows. First floor. He knew it all. Tornadoes were rare, but they could still happen, so he knew what to do. He’d been through two tsunamis in his life, both of which scared the shit out of him to the point of panic attacks. He almost got hospitalized after the last one from how bad he got mentally. He watched the death count climb, and he was sure he was going to be one of them, that someone he loved was going to be one of them. 

But they hadn’t. 

Everything was telling him to stay put, but the warm smile on Suga’s face, and the strength of his hand squeezing his was enough to qualm his fears for just long enough. He trusted Suga. He felt safe with Suga, so he pushed the fear from him and allowed him to lead him out of the bathroom. Suga set him down at the counter before making sure the bookstore was empty. Tooru slowly pulled his jacket on, shivering at the sight of the menacing clouds rolling in. People were just sitting in the coffee shop, talking and laughing like the end of the world wasn’t being threatened outsided. 

Suga locked the door between the cafe and bookstore, and led Tooru outside. Tooru closed his eyes, focusing on breathing like the therapist showed in him back in high school when his phobia of storms and riding in cars came full force. Breathe in, breathe out. He clung to Suga’s jacket as if a tornado had come to suck him up, and Suga was the only person that wouldn’t move. 

“Okay, we can go.” 

Tooru clung to Suga’s arm as the clouds crept ever closer. He couldn’t take his eyes off of them. A small squeak escaped him when the clouds lit up with static electricity. A low growl of thunder threatened him. He closed whatever gap there was between himself and his friend. 

“You’re okay, Tooru,” Suga said gently, pulling Tooru close. “We’re almost to the metro, okay?” 

Tears filled Tooru’s eyes as the day his parents died played in his head again and again. He’d been so scared to leave the school. His mom just wanted him to ride the metro home. The restaurant was busy, but he wagered that his sister, Nami, was there. So they left. He was alone, all alone, waiting, huddled under the awning and crouched in between the wall of the school and the door. It was cold. The wind ripped through his clothes. It was cold. Dark. Headlights. Suga’s family. Then the yelling. His siblings turning on him. He was a child. The storm had taken everything away from him. 

Maybe the storm even took his talent to write. 

Maybe the storm was the reason that he couldn’t get published. 

Suga led him down the steps to the train, then they were on their way to his parents’ home. Tooru liked the metro. It was below ground. It was a safe place away from storms. The storm couldn’t crush them. It couldn’t pull them off the tracks. Trains were safe. Trains rarely crashed. Cars crashed every day. The tires screeched like nails on a chalkboard, and the horns played a sinister tune in his head. He hated them. The swaying of the train was like the rocking of a crib to a lullaby. He closed his eyes, and leaned against Suga’s shoulder until their stop. 

Tooru’s heart raced as he climbed the stairs to the streets above. If it was raining, he was going to stay down here where it was safe. It couldn’t hurt him down here. He’d beg Suga to stay. It would be okay. It would be…

Tooru froze. Wind was ripping through the air, blowing the rain sideways. Flashes of lightning and a roar of thunder greeted them. 

“Tooru, Tooru, look at me.” Suga held tight to his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. My parents’ house is right next the station, remember. We’re almost there. So close.” 

“But…”

“Look at me.” 

“But, Suga…”

“Look at me. Listen to me.” 

“Koushi.” 

Tooru couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. The world was closing in around him, and the storm was raging outside. The thunder drowned out the sound of Suga’s voice. All Tooru could do was stare. His lungs burned with the need for air, but it wouldn’t come. The storm.

The storm. 

The storm.

Tooru pushed Suga away, and ran down the steps as fast as he could. He couldn’t go up there. He refused to be in that. People died in storms. Storms took people from him. Storms were evil, and violent. They came with no regard for life, or what destruction they brought in their path. Storms were ruthless killers. 

He huddled between the kiosks for tickets and a trash can, throwing his arms over his head, while his body took over, breathing, hyperventilating. He was trembling. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Suga must have found him because suddenly he was there, speaking softly and slowly. 

“Breathe in. Breathe out.” 

Tooru tried to follow the instructions, but his body was betraying him. Every fiber of his soul was screaming to be let out. He couldn’t handle it. He knew Suga was right. In his rational mind he knew Suga was right. He knew everyone was right. It would be okay. Storms could be bad, but they weren’t always so bad. But every other part of him rejected it. He couldn’t go out there. 

“Tooru, look at me.” Tooru raised his eyes. “It’s going to go on for a while. You can’t stay here all night. They’ll kick you out. They don’t care about you being scared. Can you be brave for five minutes? Five minutes.”

“Will you stay?” Tooru whimpered.

“I have to go back to the store.” 

“I’ll go if you stay with me,” Tooru pleaded. 

Suga chewed his lip, glancing around at the people who were walking by with concerned looks on their faces. He turned back to Tooru. 

“Okay. I’ll stay with you.” 

Tooru stood up on shaking legs. He wiped his tears and snot on his jacket, embarrassed he didn’t have something better to wipe his face with. He closed his eyes, using slow, deep breaths as they walked up the stairs. Cold rain beat down on them. The wind ripped at their clothes. Everything in Tooru wanted to run, but Suga was his rock. He couldn’t let go of his rock could he?

When the house came into view, Tooru practically flung himself into the door. Suga’s mom was sitting in the living room watching one of her soaps. She looked alarmed, and jumped to her feet. 

“Tooru! Koushi, is he okay?” 

“He’ll live.” 

“You shouldn’t have brought him out in the storm.” 

“Mom, he was at work. I can’t let him have a panic attack at work. Besides it’s supposed to storm all night.” 

“You went to work?” 

Tooru nodded, pulling his knees to his chest. He buried his face in his arms sobbing as he rocked back and forth. He wasn’t sure who it was, but someone wrapped him in a blanket, and sat beside him. Suga probably. Eventually Suga’s mother pushed a warm cup of tea into his hands. She brushed back his wet hair, and smiled at him. 

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” Tooru whispered. 

“For leaving your apartment even when you knew it was going to storm.” 

“I needed the money.” 

“Baby, you know we would have paid you a full day.” 

“But I wanted to work.” 

“I know, but you can’t work like this. Koushi, get him some dry clothes please.” 

Suga ran up the stairs, and Suga’s mom wrapped him in her arms. “I’m so, so sorry you have to go through this.”

Tooru’s phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He ignored it. He just laid against Suga’s mom like a little kid on the entry floor. How many times had she done this over the years? She had been the one to take him to the psychiatrist thinking he had PTSD because of how drastic everything was, and while that may be true in a sense, he was diagnosed with his phobias. He went to therapy. He almost ended up in a hospital from how bad it got. She had been a godsend. He wondered how far back the phobia went. Would it have gotten more debilitating if she hadn’t helped him? 

Suga brought him a change of clothes, and helped Tooru to their old bedroom. He helped Tooru get out of his soaking wet clothes into dry ones because the man was shaking so much. If it was anyone other than Suga, this would be embarrassing. But it was Suga, his rock. 

They went down stairs, and Tooru wrapped himself in a blanket cocoon, and laid against Suga’s mom. She held him tight while the storm raged on outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii
> 
> Sorry for the late update. I've been having a serious block, but I think I've gotten past. Enjoy!

Hajime paced his apartment, unsure of what to do. He’d finished the first book of 1Q84, and he had so many questions. What was real? It had him questioning everything. Was this girl real or simply a figment of the man’s imagination? Did they live in two separate worlds or was there only one, and the other was a work of fiction on paper? And these two young girls, Fuka-Eri and Tsubasa...what was real? What was their story? The real story? Tengo had said that in his book, the universe had two moons. It was like this world, only slightly different. That taxi driver had told Aomame that there was only one reality. But what was it?

His fingers itched to pick up the next book, and read through the night, but he couldn’t do that. He needed to get dinner, eat, shower, and rest before tomorrow. He knew if he opened the book, he wouldn’t put it back down. Hiro had told him that Oikawa was a literature major and a writer. Everything he recommended was good. Hajime had admittedly been skeptical, but now he was hooked. 

He’d spent the entirety of his weekend reading. His eyes were blurry and couldn’t focus, and his head was racing. He wanted to go find Oikawa and talk to him about it. Maybe he’d be open to just having coffee to talk. Not a date. Just a book talk. Or would that be a date? But Oikawa said not to talk to him until he’d read them all, right? What kind of person was he? This book was too much guessing. But there was a writer, and there were seemingly two worlds. What did that say? Was Oikawa like that? Did he live this boring life and had to make up a new world to make this one bearable? Was that...was that what this book said about him? 

Hajime had no idea. Oikawa was just as mysterious as the book. But if he read the rest of the series, then he’d know everything. So wouldn’t that mean that he was an open book if only you tried to get to know him? No, that was stupid. Anyone could give him their favorite book and say read this and have there be an open book metaphor. But wasn't everyone like that? Didn’t you have to get to a person’s comfort level before they ever opened up? What could that mean?

Hajime wracked his head until he couldn’t think anymore. How was he supposed to sleep with all of this reeling in his head? Work was going to awful tomorrow if he couldn’t sleep. How was he supposed to help contribute to the greater good and saving lives if he-

No. He wasn’t going back to that. He wasn’t going back to what ifs and the like. Hajime went to his room and picked up his one of his bottle he was supposed to take when he was having a breakthrough anxiety attack. He knew he shouldn’t take it. He knew that it was for emergencies only. He knew his anxiety was perfectly controlled with what he was on, and there was no reason for him to take it. But there was. That book and a man named Oikawa Tooru. 

*****

Tooru hated mornings, or rather he hated waking up. His racing thoughts kept him up all night, and just when he finally could close his eyes, boom. The sun was busting into his room to wake him up like the asshole it was. He used to not have any problem falling asleep, but after his parents died, he started having the worst nightmares. His thoughts would ruminate until he thought himself into a panic attack. That's when it all started.

This morning however was dreary and overcast. It was his phone buzzing that woke him this time. He picked it up and saw his brother's contact information on his screen as the phone call came in. Tooru glared at it, and flipped him off. He didn't have anything to say to Keishi, yet he wouldn't stop blowing up his phone. He watched it go to voicemail, before opening the weather app. There wasn't supposed to be anything but possible showers today, but you could never be certain so he checked it hourly on days like today. Or rather the last two weeks. Again his brother's call lit up the screen just as the app was starting.

"What?" Tooru answered harshly. Maybe he if he just talked to him, he'd leave him alone and Keishi could go back to hating Tooru and not speaking to him.

"Good morning to you too..."

"What?" Tooru glared at his lap.

"I just was calling to check on you."

"No, I haven't gotten published. Yes, I am still at the bookstore. And no, I don't need your money. Bye."

"Tooru, wait."

"What?"

"The weather has been bad."

"Yeah. I know."

"Of course you know," Keishi muttered. "Look, could you just show me some respect? I am your senior."

"I don't see you respecting me."

"I don't have to."

Tooru pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up. He wasn't about to sit here and be treated like trash. He got enough of that. Keishi popped up again, and again Tooru declined. Over and over and over the cycle repeated itself. Until finally his brother sent him a text. Tooru contemplated just deleting it before even reading it, but he was too petty for that. He needed to know what exactly to complain about to Suga.

_You're such a fucking brat. I was going to see how you were doing with the storms, but I guess fuck me for trying, huh? You know this is why there are so many problems._

Tooru let out a laugh. Seriously? That was why there were problems. Definitely not because they told Tooru he basically could control the weather because their parents got killed coming to see him. And it obviously had nothing to do with them literally abandoning him, and treating him like trash the last twelve years. No, the problem is that he wasn't going to take their bullshit anymore. He was a child. A child. They left him. They threw him away like trash. He'd been a third year in junior high, and they wanted to sit there and treat him like trash. 

Images of the police officer getting in between him and his sister flashed through his mind. He thought a lot about that day unintentionally. He couldn't help it as the memories flooded in his mind and his dreams, haunting him relentlessly. He was sure one day they were going to drive him crazy. Suga told him he should cut the negative, toxic people from his life, but for Tooru, he wasn't about to cut them out. He was better than that. They may have thrown him to the dogs, but he wasn't turning their back on him. If they could just stop being so fucking ridiculous for five minutes and apologize for all the shit they put him through, then maybe things could turn around. While that didn't seem to be something that would happen in the near future, he still held on. He'd apologized over and over and over that he begged his parents to pick him up. He apologized for being astraphobic. He apologized for things he had no control over because all he wanted was his big brother and big sister to hug him, and tell him everything would be okay, and they loved him. That's all he wanted. That fourteen year old kid needed that. 

Tooru typed out a million messages, erasing them each time, until he gave up. He refused to retort. He was better than that. He was better than _them._ If he wanted to, he knew how to break them down. He knew the right things to say. It was a gift both he and Suga had. Kill them words. The whole idiom of sticks and stones was all a ruse. Words could be daggers. 

He threw his phone to the side, and rubbed his face. He needed to get to work on his novel. Or maybe just scrap the whole thing. He wasn't going to work today. Hadn't been in the last two weeks. Suga's parents made him take the time off after those repetitious panic attacks. Suga even had to go to his apartment to get his medication he took in the case of severe panic attacks. He was worse for the wear, and slept for half a day in Suga's old room. He looked like shit. He knew it. He felt like shit. 

He hated it. He hated being controlled like this. He felt like a small child. He couldn't control the weather. He knew it was illogical to be so scared of storms. He knew that panic did nothing. He knew. But that was why it was called a phobia, wasn't it? He couldn't handle it. He tried. He did. But he couldn't. Every storm, he tried harder and harder to hold back. He tried so hard to tell himself everything would be okay, but there was a voice screaming louder and louder until he couldn't hear anything else except all the horrid possibilities. That was the thing that nobody understood. 

He jumped when he heard the knock on his door. He rubbed his face, and opened the door to find Suga standing there with a smile, looking as perky as ever with two coffees and a bag of food. Tooru blinked. He wasn't supposed to come over. 

"Uh...hi?" Tooru hugged himself, and stepped aside. "I didn't know you were coming over." 

"I have come by every day the last week and a half, Tooru," Suga smirked slipping off his shoes. "I need to make sure you're alright. You look like shit, and I know for a fact you haven't showered in days." 

"Lightning can kill you in the shower." 

"No, it can't." Suga rolled his eyes, and let out a sigh. "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole, but as your friend, I need to make sure you take care of yourself, and your irrational thoughts don't control you. Now you're going to drink this coffee and this bagel I brought you. Then you are going to shower and change into new clothes, and you're going to work on your novel. I'll tidy this place up for you. This is absolutely disgusting." 

"Suga, you don't have to-"

"No. Those things take a lot out of you. The last two weeks have been ridiculous. You haven't had time to recover. You're moping around and living in your own filth because you don't have the energy to do anything. Have you even eaten besides what I've brought? I'm gonna cook for you too. Put some meals you can just pop in the microwave." 

"Suga-"

"No."

"Suga-"

"No." 

"Koushi."

"What?" Suga narrowed his eyes. 

"Thank you." 

Suga smiled. "You're most welcome." 

"Do you think we can actually just hang out? I am drained. I don't want to do anything. If I have to write, I'm gonna break down because I can't." Tooru's voice broke. "I'm sorry." 

Suga stared at him for a moment before frowning, and giving him a hug. "Of course. But we're doing the rest of the stuff too, and I expect you to finish your last edits to that novel. I want to read it again. It's good."

"But not publish good." 

"You know, Tooru, you should self publish. There are ways to do it. Use your social media accounts were you've posted you works online. Get this novel out there, spread the word. You have thousands of people who follow you. Your work gets so much attention and comments. I think you're like one of the most famous Star Wars fanfiction writers on both fanfiction dot net and Ao3. Your wordpress gets a lot of traffic too. Put one book out there, establish an audience. Then publishers see how well your book is doing, and they'll pick you up. You won't be a liability anymore." 

"No. That's not going to get me anywhere. If it was, I would have gotten published a long time ago." 

Suga glanced up from where he was unpacking the breakfast he brought. He sighed, and shook his head. Tooru chewed his cheeks. There was a part of him that knew Suga was right, but his pride said otherwise. 

"We'd sell it in the store. Promote it," Suga said quietly.

"I told you..."

"Fine. Fine, just do nothing. Just sit around and wallow about the fact that you have this amazing novel just sitting on your computer waiting to be shared with the world because you're too stubborn to just do things the easy way." 

"It's not that simple." 

"Times are changing. Don't you get that, Tooru?" 

 

Tooru crossed his arms, digging his nails into the skin. Suga gave him this lecture every so often, and every time it made him feel like a failure more and more. Publish himself? Why didn’t he roll over and die? It was admitting defeat. It was admitting that nothing he did was good enough because he had to turn his back from what he really wanted. For years he self published online, and got nothing. For years he self published in competitions. He put himself out there, and got nothing to show from it. He didn’t care that he was big in fandoms. He didn’t care that his original fiction online got so much attention. Why would anyone buy it? They could read his work for free. And wouldn’t he be turning his back on those loyal readers? 

But a nagging voice in his head told him Suga was right. People started empires online these days. Hell, college students were able to make money off of their stuff online with things like Patreon. Artists sold things on places like etsy and ebay. People sat in front of a camera and talked about their life and got paid millions for it. And acting? People didn’t have to go the old fashioned way. They could put skits on Youtube and get their own shows from it even with they weren’t the best. Bands and artists were recording their own tracks and putting them online, selling their own stuff until they got signed. And people self published all the time. He’d once watched a docuseries about the 2000’s and a person talked about how once Youtube started, it started the anyone can do it era. And that was precisely why he didn’t want to self publish. If anyone could do it, then it would take away that satisfaction. It wasn’t an accomplishment then no matter how hard anyone worked. 

“Thank you for breakfast, Koushi,” Tooru said barely audibly, and sat down.

*****

Hajime badged into work, walked through the long corridor to the lab. He pressed his finger to the print reader, and held his breath like he did every morning. He had a superstition that if he didn’t hold his breath, he’d find out he was fired. The door opened, and he walked it. He scrubbed up in the large sink, keeping his eyes fixed on his hands. He grabbed his uniform, and stepped in the small changing area to get into his uncomfortably sterile blue scrubs before putting on one of the blue lab jackets, and a mask, and walked into the lab. It was a bit of overkill, but it was required for the job. 

He’d worked at many other facilities, usually pharmaceuticals, but the more he learned about the industry, the more he hated it. He hated being part of something that was literally profiting off of sick people. He didn’t want to work somewhere where the primary focus was how do we treat the symptoms while also keeping people sick. He learned about his current job from overhearing his boss talking about the lab company that would be going out of business once they figured out their cures because there was no business in cures. No money to be made. That’s what sparked Hajime’s drive. 

It was a huge pay cut, and the rules were a bit over the time. He had to sign a nondisclosure agreement and go through hoops to get clearance. He wondered how a company was able to be so high tech on government grants alone, but here they were. He didn’t question it anymore. He just went with it. He was going to be saving lives after all. It was one step in the direction of a physician like his parents wanted him to be. 

“Iwaizumi-san! Good morning!” 

“Good morning,” he returned to his coworker. 

She was far too happy for it to be only eight in the morning. She always was. Her makeup was always perfect, and her hair was always in a flawless bun. He didn’t really know what she looked like without the mask. He wouldn’t recognize her on the street. But she was one of the few people at work who actually made the mornings bearable. Her energy was uplifting, and he loved working with her even if her chipper attitude bugged the shit out of him at eight in the morning. 

He took his place in a cubicle, and pulled up his worklist for the day on his computer. His job was usually hunched in the cubicle analyzing chemical compounds, and putting them into classes before further analyzing their effect on whatever they would be testing on, though usually it was the interns that did that. He’d much rather be hands on, but at least this way he didn’t fuck it up. 

He found his mind wandering to 1Q84 and Oikawa. Neither were mundane, yet somehow he realized that his life was far more like the characters in the book than he thought. They both had routines, but their lives were also complicated and spiced up in various ways. The world was changing in mysterious ways for each of them. And who were these mysterious “Little People” the girls kept talking about? What did they signify in Oikawa’s life? Was he reading into it too much? He didn’t know. 

Needless to say, his productivity dropped significantly today. He could barely focus, and only finished his worklist by the skin of his teeth. He didn’t care. He wanted to go to the bookstore and find Oikawa. He quickly changed out of the sterile clothing, tossing them into the laundry bin, and practically ran out of the building, heading toward the bookstore. 

When he arrived to the bookstore, things were pretty dead. Sugawara was leaning across the counter talking to a man with short hair in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. He glanced up when he heard the bell on the door ring. Hajime froze. He had wanted to come in more discrete. Sugawara smiled at him, and straightened up. 

“This is him, Daichi! Isn’t he cute?” 

“Yeah,” Daichi answered sounding just a bit perturbed by the intrusion. 

“We can we do for you?” Sugawara rested his chin on his hand. 

“Uh...Is Oikawa here?” 

“Nope. He’s on temporary leave. Did you finish?” 

“Leave?” Hajime blinked. How could he be on leave? Where was he? Was he sick? Was he coming back? 

“Yeah. As in not working. I don’t know when he’ll be back, but he will be.” 

“Oh…” Hajime rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I guess then I’ll head out.” 

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. Tooru needs to get laid.” 

Hajime shifted, forced a nod, and walked out of the bookstore. Leave…He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment! ♥️

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :D Please leave a comment. It means the world.


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